Two Hundred and Thirty-One Minutes
by dottsie
Summary: If Deuce had known how long Cleo would be trapped in stone this time, he would have never let her take the risk of removing his shades. The first time he stoned her was bad enough, and that had been on accident. Not to mention it had ended much more quickly.


Four episodes into Bad Ghouls Club, and Deuce was pacing the floor.

An empty snack bowl sat neglected on the Gorgon's coffee table, Deuce's backpack was still laying the same spot he had dropped it when he and his girlfriend reached his house, and Cleo, who was currently encased in stone, was sitting to the left of the living room couch.

It had been Cleo's idea.

She wanted to see Deuce's eyes, just to know what they looked like. "I didn't get a really good look at them the first time. I was caught off-guard, you know," she claimed earlier that day in study howl.

He had been uneasy about it (seeing his eyes couldn't be worth it), but in the end, he didn't really see a reason not to oblige. She had unfrozen quickly the first time, so why wouldn't she the second time? In addition, she claimed it wouldn't be as scary this time, since she was aware of what was going to happen. Therefore, it would be fine, he told himself. It would be fine.

She looked at him sternly after she had asked. "You're going to keep me company the entire time. No matter how bored you get."

He replied, "Of course, babe," and she pecked his cheek.

And he did keep her company. Once they reached the Gorgon household, they stayed in the living room instead of heading straight for his bedroom or the kitchen like they normally did. He'd explain the whole thing to his mom if she happened to come home before Cleo unfroze; she was out somewhere with Clawd's mom that evening.

It had been overbearingly quiet in the room when his girlfriend stood in front of him and removed his shades herself. He was reluctant to open his eyes, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Cleo's voice was serious when she cut through the silence. "I'm ready now, Deuce."

Hesitating for a few long moments, Deuce opened his eyes, and saw Cleo in full color for a split second. She was the most breathtaking thing in the universe.

Her facial expression didn't even have time to shift before there was a flash of light, and then she was completely gray. No more blue eyes and red lips for the time being.

Once he had gently removed his sunglasses from Cleo's hands, Deuce turned the TV on and faced her towards it, and made sure it stayed on the ridiculous reality show they liked to watch together. He talked to her continuously. He promised beforehand that he would. He had to. She would panic if she didn't see and hear him the entire time.

The first hour went okay, and Deuce readied himself for her coming back, but she did not, not yet. So, he continued talking.

However, it became increasingly difficult to do this.

It wasn't that he ran out of things to talk about. It was that, as the seconds ticked by, he grew closer and closer to a breakdown, his leg bouncing anxiously as he sat on the couch and his breath getting stuck in his throat more and more. Memories of his pet dragon Smokey flashed through his head, still petrified after ten years.

He tried to keep his thoughts and his voice steady the best that he could; he couldn't let Cleo hear him like that now. She needed to stay calm more than he did.

One hour turned to two, which turned to nearly four. This was three hours longer than it normally took for someone to unfreeze, and he had focused so hard to try and make it shorter.

He was pacing now, the TV forgotten. The only thing he could think to say for a little bit was "I'm still here," every few minutes. He was entirely sure his voice broke a few times, but he did not cry; he wouldn't let himself. It occurred to him maybe he should call his mother, but he told himself to wait until the end of the hour. Then he'd call for sure.

At exactly three hours and fifty-one minutes in, Deuce was standing in front of Cleo, hugging himself and wishing that he was hugging her.

He was rambling on about some video game that was coming out next year, elaborating on the trailer he saw without much enthusiasm, less focused on the game and more focused on having something to talk about. He felt sick to his stomach; the dragon statue in the catacombs of Monster High loomed at the back of his brain.

He stopped in the middle of his explanation, and stared at her face. It had been set in an expression he didn't typically see on her; her eyes were relaxed, maybe even a bit awestruck, and she wasn't smiling, but she wasn't frowning, either. It would have looked like a neutral expression to anyone that didn't know her well.

His arms hung at his sides and his face contorted under his shades. "I'm sorry, Cleo. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—I didn't mean for this to happen, I didn't think it would last this long—"

Deuce suddenly stopped, interrupted when he picked up a faint humming noise. This sound was always a precursor to what he was waiting for, but he couldn't tell if it was her or if he was just imagining things in his near-panic.

Then, her form began to glow as her stone skin began breaking away, almost like it had been encasing her. Deuce's heart seized up; she was coming back.

In a flash of light, she was unfrozen, and she gasped for air, stumbling backwards a few steps.

Deuce twitched, startled by the sudden transformation despite how many times he had seen it, but reacted quickly to help Cleo stand steady. He supported her upper back with one hand and took her hand in his other.

She blinked hard, her eyes still adjusting. Her voice sounded hoarse. "Deuce?"

He squeezed her hand and tried to keep his own voice from breaking. "Yeah, I'm here, baby. I'm right here, you're safe, you're alright."

"I think I'm fine." She stood up straighter, pausing to catch her breath. Her eyes turned to him, their color,once again, dulled by his shades. Her words came out slowly and deliberately. "It wasn't nearly as bad this time. I think it's because I knew it was going to happen."

Cleo stroked his cheek; the feeling of her fingertips was a godsend. "But, Deuce, the real question is… are you alright?"

The more she stared at him, the more Deuce got the instinct to keep his eyes closed, even though he had his shades on again. His mouth hung open, trying to find the right response, but he kept silent. Had it felt like four hours to her?

Cleo tilted her head and gave him a small smile, trying to show that she had now recovered from the initial shock. "I wouldn't have let you do this if I didn't trust you, you know."

"What if you got stuck that way? Just over wanting to see what my eyes look like?"

"I wouldn't have."

"You… you could have…" He curled his fingers into a fist on her back and took a deep breath. "It was bad enough the first time I stoned you, but losing you would be…"

Deuce paused again. He broke away from his girlfriend and went to sit on the couch, unable to look at her. He stared at his hands instead. Cleo's hands normally would have rested on her hips, but now they were uneasily suspended in the position Deuce had left them in. She looked at him for a moment, frowning, before following his lead and taking the spot next to him.

She gently wrapped her right arm around his shoulder, hugging him close to her, and placed her left hand on his knee. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and whispered, "I love you."

He pushed his shades up and wiped tears away from his closed eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Deuce. I love your eyes and I love you. They're beautiful and I don't regret seeing them."

They stayed like that for a minute. Deuce didn't sob, but his body shuddered as he tried to push the tears down. Cleo shushed him soothingly as his hair curled itself around her fingers.

"What… what do they look like?" He sniffed. "My eyes, I mean. I know they're green, but… I never really asked anyone before cause it seemed rude, and my mom just told me they're green and left it at that. And I can never see it when I look in a mirror cause the flash is too bright."

She hummed. "Oh, they're the most divine shade of green I've ever seen. They may the best shade of any color, period. It reminds me of the one necklace I have, you know the one? With the opals and the emeralds? And your pupils are shaped like diamonds, like some regular snakes have. I could just stare at them all day."

"Huh." He held his chin in his hands. "I'm sorry. I know you hate being petrified, and this time was so much longer than it usually is. I tried to make it not last as long, but it didn't work."

"Stop apologizing. And I asked for it this time, don't you ever blame yourself. You don't need to be sorry for your powers."

"I can't help it. Not after Smokey."

Cleo lifted her head from his shoulder and turned his face towards hers by cradling his cheek. She could tell his eyes were still closed by the way his eyebrows were lowered. "You did exactly what I asked you to, and nothing more. You have nothing to apologize for." She kissed his forehead, and the snakes leaned forward slightly, not active enough to fight for her attention, but not stagnant either.

Deuce sighed. "I know, I just hate that it has to be like this."

"I know exactly what you need to do: you're going to cook for me. I haven't had those chocolate chip cookies that I love so much in a while."

"Didn't I make some for you last week?"

"That was almost an eternity ago! Well, not really compared to how long I've been on this planet, but you need to make some more regardless. You can start now; I'll just tell my father I'm staying late at Ghoulia's."

His eyes opened again behind his shades and he shook his head, a smile finally finding its way back to his face. To an outsider, Cleo's words would have sounded demanding and inconsiderate, but she knew that cooking was therapeutic for him. It helped to ground him, shifting his focus to creating something instead of fretting.

His voice was a loving kind of quiet when he replied. "You know I'd do anything for you, babe."

"Good." Cleo smiled back and kissed his cheek, and Deuce felt his distress finally begin to dissolve.


End file.
